


Sugar-Coated

by FandomsAreMyFuel



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, I just want to ignore the plot, Light Angst, M/M, One-Shot, hilson, pride prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24257566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomsAreMyFuel/pseuds/FandomsAreMyFuel
Summary: He could recall the moment where he stared into the eyes of the doctor who had diagnosed him. The apologetic look that fizzed in his eyes and for once, he understood why House didn't sugarcoat it.
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Sugar-Coated

The moment of life where Wilson didn't remember suddenly came to him, in the driver's seat of his infamous Volvo where House's body sat next to him. He could recall the moment where he stared into the eyes of the doctor who had diagnosed him. The apologetic look that fizzed in his eyes and for once, he understood why House didn't sugarcoat it. 

Biting into the unfiltered and bitter unforgivingness felt right when he was the one sitting and awaiting the call of the dove or crow or whatever bird used in _stupid_ metaphors. They had no place staying in Wilson's brain! Why did they 'flutter in the wing with their _stupid_ wings' when _he! He!_ As in the only man who understood House was dying!?

"'Better be thinking about what we're going to be eating, Wilson." House tapped his cane on the floor of the car. Wilson shook his head and the fluff of hair in front of his face drooped a bit closer to his eyes.

"We just ate." Wilson huffed.

" _You_ just ate, I had a beer." House half-heartedly shrugged, face as indifferent as always, even staring out the window like a kid on an airplane, Wilson could tell. Wilson tried to take a glimpse at House but his so-called ' _goody-two-shoeness_ ' got in the way and he finally huffed and continued focusing on the road.

"Well, jokes on you for not eating, I guess." He finally said after a while where the blanket of silence soon transformed to a constant buzzing that was just like a fly in the bathroom. 

" _Pfft_ , you care too much to not help," House stated, eyes still pinned on the outside, where the roads had trees that loomed over them. The night was just settling into the view, the sun dipping forwards and under the hills, which Wilson could recall seeing once before with his father. House was never wrong, was he?

"Well, yeah." He mumbled and the car zipped to the left and swerved back to the right side, House choked on his own spit as he stamped down the cane to steady himself. It seemed by his reaction House didn't hear Wilson's words nor his shoes clicking on the ground. 

The _unreasonable_ irritation in House's tone caught Wilson off guard for once. "The hell?" He growled and went back to sulking _—_ or bruting because he was a 'real man.' He turned back like a _child_ and stared outside.

"Sorry." Wilson murmured as quietly as last time. This time, House was reminded of the soft talking Wilson did in his sleep, the murmurs of agony that laced his voice as treatment came and how, for once, he felt so much _pain_ for his best friend. His _stupid_ wavy and brown hair, his stupid law-abiding personality, his _stupid_ understanding of people and their _emotions,_ andhis _stupid_ ability to make him _feel_. House hissed. Wilson turned to him and finally, House could see the concern that swam in his eyes like eels in a lake, if it was there or not, if it was pretty or not, if it was dangerous or not, it was _there_. 

"Stupid." House wanted to shout, screaming, and shake his fist at whatever God or gods people followed by because of a few dozen books, but instead, he hissed and growled at once. All Wilson heard was a fight between a cat and dog, each fighting for one reason, each from different stand-points even if they were both animals. Stupid, unnecessarily competing animals.

"House?" 

" _What?_ " He snapped and Wilson didn't continue, leaving a blanket of silence... that soon transformed to a constant buzzing that was just like a fly in the bathroom. Back to where they were. 

The two were different and they would always be, a cat and dog, both unnecessarily competing animals... because, in this singular moment of life, things suddenly came to him, in the driver's seat of his infamous Volvo where House's body sat next to him. Recalling the moment, that was so familiar yet was the same. The apologetic look that fizzed in _their_ eyes and for once, he understood why House didn't sugarcoat it. 

"Thank you," Wilson said. He kept his eyes on the road and didn't look to his right, where House was probably staring at him with an expression of some kind, typical of him, "Thank you for staying." Wilson finished, letting go of the breath he had in his chest.

House couldn't respond but Wilson smiled; at least, there were a few years for House to respond, sugar-coated or not, hissing or growling.

They were all dying anyway.

_Not to sugar-coat it._


End file.
